


take me higher//joshler

by Beebosexual



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blurryface, Brendonurie, Cancer, Dallonweekes - Freeform, Depression, Emo, Emo Quartet, Emo Trinity, Fluff, Gay, I need help, Jishwa, Love, M/M, Not a forest fic, Pain, Smut, Tearinmyheart, brendon, cancer fic, emofriendship, emolove, gaylove, howtobegay, joshler - Freeform, nicolasbourbaki, not unrequited love, truelove, twentyonepilots - Freeform, tyjo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-13 21:41:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18949210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beebosexual/pseuds/Beebosexual
Summary: "Why do you want me dead? Or do you want to torture me just by keeping me alive?""You can answer your own question. What is the more torturous?""I'm sick of playing your games. I've met Josh now. Nothing will work.""You keep telling yourself that. But inside, you know, Josh doesn't care about you. He never has..."





	1. Searching for a Purpose

Tyler

The day began like any other ordinary day: my eyeliner flowing down my face in heavy streams, me leaning over the sink, blankly staring at my reflection with emotionless, doll-like eyes. I carefully examined every feature on my dull face, every eyelash, every imperceptible freckle, and focused all of my mental space on trying not to scream at myself. 

Every day began like this. It was like a ritual, my way of mental preparation for the day that I had to face. I honestly didn't care about being accepted anymore. That was a long ago dream.

I'll settle for being ignored.

Did I wish I didn't feel like this? Every. Single. Day. But deep inside, I knew things were never going to change. I would always be Tyler Joseph. The emo. The freak. The psychopath. The nobody. I've heard the names they call me. Yeah, they're not nice. But I've gotten used to them by now. In time, I've learned to build an impenetrable wall against the merciless insults. They still get to me, but I harden my features against the heavy tide of pain that has risen up against me.

My eyes consciously flick to the alarm clock next to my bed, sitting on my bedside table like a guardian. 7:45. 

I splashed some water on my face, trying to get rid of the dark, black tear stains that had settled themselves on my face. I was late. I needed to get out of the house.

"Damn it," I whispered to myself, hurrying down the stairs. It was time to get out the house. I sent a quick prayer to a deity who's presence with me I highly doubted that I wouldn't bump into my mum on the way out of the house. 

Too late. She stood in my way like an unmovable rock, and hardened her features to glare at me. She had been crying, I could tell, and I felt a familiar lump rise in my throat, but I bit it down. I couldn't help her, when are was as far gone as she was. No one should ever ask me for help. I'd probably just give them a sarcastic answer as send them on their way. I tried to push past my mum, but she was still standing there, sobbing.

"Your dad's been drinking again," She choked out. I shrugged. Big news. Dad's always drinking. And anyway, I knew that wasn't the real reason she was upset. She was upset for her own selfish reasons I didn't care to hear about, and that was that. I had enough problems of my own without her fake ones which she made up. I pushed past her, and this time, she let me.

I grabbed my bag, and headed out the front door. 

"Home late today!" I shouted, into the door. It wasn't as if I was going anywhere in particular. Probably just hanging out at the store, out of fear of coming home again. I flicked my short hair self-consciously into my face, took a deep breath and closed my eyes. And I conjured up a world where I could be myself, where I lived on the other side of the world, away from my hometown in the dark. I dreamed about a place without homophobia, racism, and a place where people accepted me. And I was still dreaming about impossible things all the way until I got to school.

As I walked in the door of my homeroom, I pulled my hood up over my face and focused my eyes on a more pleasing corner of homeroom. The corner where I knew Josh was sitting.

Josh was well... Josh. He was the dream of every girl in this school, the apple of the teacher's eye. Everyone, and I mean, everyone loved him. The very first time I saw him, I knew I loved him, that I wanted to go out with him, that I wanted to be with him. I loved his red hair, dark enough to be considered crimson. I loved his rich, mocha eyes and his way of laughing with his head tilted back. I loved his way of making jokes about Taco Bell no one else got except me. I love his personality, and his way of making me feel like I was alone in this world.

As if summoned, he turned around in his chair, surveying the room with interest in his eyes. Looking for someone. Like the total dumb-ass I am, I wondered if he was looking for me. As if! I dream on, right?

I had always known I was gay, of course. I had spent hours agonizing about it, crying, wondering how I was going to come out. 

Wondering if I was going to be damned. But something about Josh made me want to keep going. To carry on. I knew I was in love, so what did it matter? I wasn't going to change.

I looked at the back of darkly-coloured head every day, wondering if I would ever talk to him, or would always sit here, staring at the back of his head, damning myself more than God ever would when he found out I was gay. I was so stupid! How was Josh supposed to notice me if I never said anything? I remember we were only paired up last year for a project, and I didn't say anything to him, except to pass him notes or to explain the chapter we were on. 

Typical emo kid. Me then, me now. Writing poetry in my many notebooks, letting each line hold a part of me deep inside. A cry for help, if you like. If it makes my life easier to understand.

Something always held me back, before talking to him. I hated it. I hated myself, for who I was. Even though I knew I could never help it.

As a regular church goer, we were always taught homosexuality was a sin. Which was why I could never tell my parents. Not my mum, with her random mood swings, and not my dad, with his drinking tendencies and his love of lashing out. I couldn't tell Zac or Jay or Maddy. That was out of the question. I couldn't talk to anyone about what I was feeling. Except Josh, but I had never plucked up my courage to ask him, and I hated myself for it. And now Debby Ryan had zoomed in on him in the first few seconds of school, and now I had no chance whatsoever.

Subconsciously glancing at the clock, I realized an hour of class had already gone by, and I was daydreaming. It was crazy, but I didn't care about school anymore. I only cared about getting out of here.

I abruptly snapped out of my daze with the teacher asking a question to the class. 

"How do we know if a person is suffering from depression? And how can we help them if they are?" For some reason, this infuriated me. Tentatively, I raised my hand. "Yes, Tyler?" The teacher smiled. I didn't usually raise my hand. Suddenly, what I wanted to say stuck in my throat. I felt 30-odd eyes boring into the back of my head. I imagined them storing up insults to hurl at me after class. I knew what I was about to do was damn-well stupid, but I had to express my opinion. I owed myself that much.

"You don't know," I said quietly, looking at my hands. "You don't know because they don't say. And they don't say because they want to leave without interruption," I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and persisted. "But these people, they want to die. But they stay. And they stay because of small things, like they want to see their new song come to life, or because of family," 

Someone gasped, then tried to cover it up by coughing.

"But when these things leave they find they have nothing left," I paused, swallowed, and continued. "And as for helping them, well, you can't change their circumstances. You can't help them. But you can be the little things that make them want to stay. It's your choice, what to do. Add, or take away." Then I pulled my hood up over my face and looked at my nails. 

"Tyler! That was completely unacceptable. Next time, maybe you should think before you speak your mind so loudly," Everyone pointedly nodded in mock agreement. I sank lower in my seat, wondering why I had done it.

Wondering what had possessed me, to express myself in this way. A stray tear rolled down my cheek.

You're pathetic. Stop that. You know that. There nothing more pathetic than a cry for help.

"Let's carry on with the theme of mental health," I completely zoned out after that. I was too busy staring at Josh, who had been looking at me an expression of curiosity and amusement. I felt an unfamiliar tug in the corner of my mouth. I was smiling! I grinned at him, tentatively. He grinned back. Then he flicked me a note. Slowly, I unfolded it. 

"Meet me in the music room at lunch. You're not as different as you may think,"

Adrenaline mixed with excitement flooded my bones. Any ounce of tiredness escaped me, and I felt wide awake. In a way, I was just an attention seeker. But for once, I didn't care. I was meeting Josh after class! Really?


	2. Because of a Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh meets Tyler, Tyler meets Josh. Hope you enjoy.

Josh

In the long term, when people ask me why I did it, the only honest answer I can really give is that I don't really know.

It was like I had never really noticed him before. When he was talking, the words he was saying, they really got through to me. In my first lesson, Geography, I couldn't stop thinking about the notion that depression could be helped by the people around you.

I had never realized it before. I had always assumed people with depression want to be alone. 

Like me.

I felt like my sickly mind had invaded my logical thinking forever. No one could see the true me. That was my fault, of course. I couldn't let my years of counseling and trying to get over this dreadful, gnawing fear get through to me, and shine out of my face into my everyday life. I couldn't let anyone know what was happening to me. 

I knew the exact moment my life changed. For the worst. I was about seven or eight years old, and my brother was chasing me through the park. Oh, for the times when we didn't care about anything. I was on my three wheeled tricycle, pedaling faster, faster, feeling the wind rush past our faces, stinging our eyes with tears of excitement, and trying to keep up with our lives whizzing past us, not taking any notice, leaving us behind...

Then my brother tripped me up, and I went falling, flying...

Then I snapped. All I remember from that moment was my fist hitting against bone, and crunching. That sound, that crunch, haunts me in my sleep. There were many more fights to come before a trained psychiatrist finally got my deadly anger under control. 

Or as controlled as she could get it, at least.

We were learning about earthquakes, and how there are all these plates down below, crashing together, causing seismic noises, complete with gigantic collisions, all beneath the ground. And all you can feel on the surface is a slight tremor. I was thinking about Tyler the whole time, the way his voice cracked when the teacher asked him a question he didn't understand. I thought of the way he got pushed around the corridors like a salmon in a raging river. I thought about the way his eyes crinkled when he stopped at Taco Bell on the way home from school, observing the heavenly selection of food with interest sparking his eyes. I never knew someone could order Tacos so cutely.

I pushed my obscene thoughts away. I had a girlfriend. Someone who was sweet, pretty, and fairly nice. She was popular, too. And a cheerleader. I wasn't sure if she was the one, though. I wasn't that I didn't love her, or like her, at least. It's just, when I was with her, it was like I wasn't there half the time. 

It was break-time, I was just heading over to talk to her. He long, red hair was pulled up into a high bun, and as she met me halfway down the corridor, I pulled her into a hug. 

"Hello, you!" I smiled at her, and we shared a quick kiss in the centre of the corridor. 

I caught up with some of my friends, all of them teasing me for secretly being gay, apparently. It was all banter, I suppose. Was there truth in it?

I hate Madonna. I'M NOT GAY!

At that very moment, I caught a glimpse of Tyler being pushed into the music room, head first into a set of drums.

"Oi!" I shouted. I heard the insults they hurled at him. Faggot. Emo. Nobody.

Everything that I was, and always will be.

Decidedly, I pulled away from Debby and marched over the the door of the music room, purpose overflowing in my steps. Making sure to keep my gaze straight ahead, I strode over like even the slightest wavering in my stomach would cause me to run away screaming, fleeing the scene. My life was bad enough already. What was I doing, ruining my reputation like this? 16 year old's were like vultures. They would swoop in, and news would be around the school quicker than you could blink. This was completely, utterly, ridiculous.

But nevertheless, a thick, dense fog passed over my eyes. I grabbed the throat of the ringleader of the pack and smashed him against the wall. Blood splattered over his nose and over my new shirt. I didn't care. I felt the familiar anger rise in my throat, and the panic started clawing at my throat, gnawing away at my fear. I thought I was over this anger. The fog that made me lose control. The regular psychiatrist sessions to control those anger management issues. And now I've lost it. Again. Over a boy.

A boy.

I dropped the gang leader and walked over to Tyler, took his hand and gently pulled him up. I took him down to the nurse's office, my vision jagged and static. After a few seconds, I realized I was hyperventilating. A stray tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't wipe it away.

"It's a messed up world," I whispered, more to myself than Tyler.

I hugged Tyler, despite the fact that we had only talked the year before when we had to work together on a project.

I reluctantly sent him on his way. And I waited outside for two periods, until an elderly teacher came along to take me to my next lesson.

I was still thinking about Tyler all the way home from school. 

As I sat on the bus, I chewed my nails until only the stubs were visible. I kept my head hung low, careful to not draw attention to myself.

Nothing to see here, people. I am totally not a 16 year old gay boy, who beat up some bullies for beating up a boy, in spite of the fact that we hardly know each other. 

But he wasn't just a boy. He was Tyler, and I was lying to myself by saying I had never noticed him before. I mean, he was Tyler. He's noticeable. 

I took a deep breath before walking through my front door. 

I walked to see my parents waiting for me. It was almost comical, the way they stood side by side to block my way. 

"I've just had a phone call from the school," My mum uttered ominously. "Why can't you be more like Jordan?" The "Why can't you be more like your brother?" card. I was exhausted, and I wanted to go to bed. So I just said the first thing that came into my mind by means of explanation.

"Listen. I was protecting Debby from an angry mob in the hallways, OK? The school called me out on it because they hate me! And I can't be like my brother because I'm not him. I'll never be him. So leave me the hell alone!" I screamed at my parents, and ran up to my room.

"Get back here!" My mother shrieked. God, I hated that sound. I payed no attention, and slammed my door shut. 

Bouncing onto my creaking springs, I flopped onto my bed, my phone already in hand. Scrolling through Instagram, I found Tyler's profile in a long list of my followers. I opened his profile with a deep breath.

A gasp escaped me as I scrolled through page after page of beautiful aesthetics appeared on my screen. I had never been a fan of aesthetic accounts, but what met my eyes was truly, and darkly, exquisite. I clicked on the page to DM him. I took a deep breath before I sent him a message. 

Me: Hi. This is Josh. I want to say sorry for what happened today. I just wanted to know if you were ok. 

He replied almost instantly.

Tyler: Hi Josh. I'm fine, obviously. It's all good.

I tapped out my reply.

Me: Does this sort of thing happen often?

He took a while to respond. I imagined him plucking up the courage. 

Tyler: A lot of the time. Haven't noticed? ;)

Me: Don't give me that. I've wanted to talk to you about all this stuff for a while now. On a completely random note, do you wanna hang out sometime?

Tyler: Sure, tomorrow ok? Anyway, I don't want to ruin your reputation more than I already have.

Me: What reputation?! Anyway, even if I had some totally random reputation, I don't care about it getting ruined.

Tyler: Sure, whatever you say ;) So, tomorrow?

Me: Sure.

Tyler: Thanks, Josh, btw. I really appreciate what you did back there.

Me: I'm not sure the school would look at it in the same way. They'd show their thanks by getting me a psychiatrist. 

Tyler: Don't beat yourself up about it. Quite nice to have a knight in shining armor come to my rescue every so often.

Me: Yh cos I'm so nice like that. It was so great of me to lose control :D

Tyler: It's fine. Wanna watch a scary movie?

Me: NOOO. Guess it's not very masculine to be seen as scared of horror movies, and all my friends think I'm gay anyway. No. 

Tyler: Are you gay?

Me: I hate Madonna! No!

Tyler: What's hating Madonna got to do with being gay? I hate Madonna, and I'm the gayest person you'll ever meet.

Me: ... even if I was a teensie little bit gay, I have a gf.

Tyler: Classic situation. Love it :D

Me: My life is not a soap opera! People have feelings irl. 

Tyler: Urgh, my mum's calling me. I'll see you tomorrow, Joshua Dun. Thanks for your help today.

Josh: No problemo, Ty.

Tyler: Bye :)

I put my phone on my bedside table, and turned out the light. I smiled into the dark. He was a great guy, if a little cute. 

I was going to his house. Like a three year old, this made me strangely happy.


	3. Nearly a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is love. And no one can take that away from us.

Tyler

I critically eyed myself in the mirror again, for what seemed like the thousandth time. For a long moment, I observed my face carefully, trying to see what might be out of place that Josh might obviously notice. I flicked my brown hair into my face, halfheartedly trying to cover up my black eye. Worst luck, I couldn't seem to cover up this unsightly blemish on my face.

Then I had an idea. I rooted through my mum's makeup, buried under piles of beauty products she attempted to forget, like closing a door on a part of herself, when Dad started drinking. I found her concealer, and applied it generously to my face, taking care to not make it too noticeable. Then I grinned at myself, self-consciously in the mirror, practicing my smiling.

Josh and I had spent our afternoon discussing when Josh should come round, and what movie we should watch. I had decided on The Shining, partly because it was a great movie, and (more to the point) I wanted to see Josh hanging on to my arms, screaming for help from a fictional character. I wanted to feel his strong hands around my arms, pulling me to him... then I stopped. I was getting ahead of myself! But I grinned, nevertheless. 

Unable to contain myself any longer, I started giggling at myself. I knew I was acting like a maniac - but didn't I have any right to be excited? I was going on a date! Who would have thought?

At about midday, I heard a knock at my front door. I opened it to see - of course - Josh standing there, looking as beautiful as ever. He was wearing a red t-shirt, which emphasized his strong arms. I tore my gaze away, and then met his eyes with a small smile.

"Hello, you!" I said, and ushered him in. "Do you want a drink, or anything?"

He looked extremely uncomfortable, but my lack of awkwardness seemed to put him at ease.

"Do you have any Red Bull?" He smiled, following me into the kitchen. I laughed. He was about to be surprised. I opened my fridge. 

"Uh.. um.. Wow!" On the shelf there were about five cans of Red Bull. I giggled, and surprisingly, Josh started laughing again. He took a can, and sat on the couch. 

"So... This is your house, huh? Do you have any siblings?" Standard small-talk, but it broke the ice.

"I have two brothers, and a sister. Jay is fun. He's 10 years younger than me, so our relationship is easy. Singing about Taco Bell and whatnot..." I smiled from the memory. "Zack's two years younger than me... He's a teenager, I guess. Just discovering what life is really about," I laughed at how stupid I must've sounded, and luckily, Josh joined in. "Maddy is just... Maddy. She has so many friends, I've lost count! How do my parents manage?" 

"Families, huh? When you're younger, you look up to them, and think they're everything. But when you grow older... you realize they're just people. And they have their crazy moments too!"

The word crazy gave me an idea. A mischievous thought came to my head. I exited the room discreetly. I told Josh I was going to put some music on.

The intro of Papa Don't Preach by Madonna started playing. I rocked with laughter, clutching my sides as Josh shrieked with pure pain.

"The drumming in this song is horrible! It needs something like..." Then he executed an unbelievably quick drum-roll on the table, complete with a steady rhythm and consistency and whatever the actual frick the drummer terminology is.

Whatever the drummer terminology was to say that it was simply brilliant. 

"Dude, you should totally arrest whoever drummed for Madonna! That was sick! You play drums?"

"Yup. You play anything?" He asked me, still drumming on the table.

"Piano, ukulele, are my main ones. I sing, I guess. I write songs." I said this nervously, waiting for his reaction. Waiting for the ax to fall. 

"Can I hear one?" It fell. But for once, I found I didn't mind. So I sat down at the piano, and played him one of my favourite songs of mine.

Addict with a pen. That was me. Just someone who wrote to stop myself from falling off the edge. I let my tainted voice carry away my pain like a dove. Letting it disappear. Letting everything disappear, including Josh, standing there with his mouth open. I didn't care.

As the last note faded away, I opened my eyes to applause. 

"Um... Wow! That was amazing! I have no words..." Josh babbled, and I took in his praise with a slight smile.

"Do you want to add some beats in?" I laughed, and Josh laughed too, but he did as I asked, and for the next hour or so, we jammed, sometimes singing, and sometimes just talking. Talking about everything, about school. About philosophical things, I'm afraid to say. The meaning of life.

We talked about tacos, both of us giggling as we both found out we savored the crunchy shell until the last possible moment, and both closed our eyes whilst we ate.

Simple things, but in that time, we got to know each other. We understood each other. I hoped he felt this connection too, but sure as hell knew I was feeling it.

I understood it now. My crush on him before had been just that. A crush. But now, I was beginning to love him. God help me, I loved him.

Finally, we came to the topic of the scandal yesterday, just as I knew we would.

"Josh, thank you so much. I know you think you acted in-considerably, or you put my reputation in danger, but I'm just saying, I don't have a reputation to ruin. So please don't beat yourself up about it. Your parents can believe what they want to believe, but I say you're my knight in shining armor. Thank you, for what you did." I finished my speech with a slight nervous expression on my face, looking for his reaction closely.

"Tyler, is everything OK? The way you ranted in class, you didn't sound like you were fine, and I worry. I worry about your home life, about your school life, and about everything. Do you ever, think about, you know...?" He looked like he was about to cry. I pulled him closer.

"All the time, Josh. My parents, they don't know that I'm gay. I've never told them. They would disown me if they knew. At school they bully me for this, and for being different. Have you noticed that about me, Josh? I'm different. Everything about me is different. I don't dress the same as you, or everyone. I don't think the same as everyone. I have fantasies about slitting my wrists." I looked down at my wrists, where I knew my scars were covered up. I swallowed. "I think I'm just drowning in self-pity. And I hate myself for that. I hate myself for being myself. I hate myself for not opening up to my stupid, dumb-ass, drunk dad. I hate it. I'm not going to survive. I won't make it to 18."

Then when he opened his arms and held me against him, it didn't feel like he was a stranger. I felt like I had known him my whole life. I hoped there was more to discover. 

"Tyler. I can make you stay. Give me a month. I'll be the person who helps you stay." Then he pulled me to him and kissed me. He tasted of Red Bull, pretzels and survival. And for once, I wanted more of it. I wanted more of this boy.

"Josh... What about Debby?" I choked out. His beautiful eyes lit up with surprise, as if he had just remembered her.

"She doesn't understand. I have problems too." His eyes were brown, big and inviting. "Tyler. I want you to be with me. But I don't want you to be with me just so you can be me."

"Josh, I want to be with you," I smiled, but it was strained. 

I felt goosebumps creep over my skin again. The temperature in the room went cold, and my bones felt frozen.

There he was. He was back again.

Not Josh. Blurryface. 

Not even Josh could fully take away the pain of your life.

Something stopped me. What he was saying... It wasn't right. He couldn't make me stay. And him being with me... Because he pitied me... I couldn't take it. 

Even if it was just Nico talking, I couldn't take it.

I love him. I wanted to be him. 

Which one?

As if sensing my discomfort, Josh kissed me again, tentatively, grabbing my face. And finally, I started to kiss him back.

Finally.

"Do you want to watch that movie?" I clicked it on the screen. Not even the sound of Jack Nicholson murdering his family could block out the noise in my ears. I kept repeating the same phrase in my mind.

Josh is touching me.

Josh is touching me. 

Josh is touching me.

And for once, I didn't want any more. We didn't even do anything more than kiss. We just spent the rest of the evening, Josh leaning on my stomach, eyes shut, lost in the moment. 

For once, I was content.

When Josh reluctantly went home, I sent him a short text.

Me: Would you like to be my boyfriend?

Josh: I would very much like that, Tyler ;)

I had a boyfriend! And hopefully not even Blurryface could take that away from me.


	4. Break-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With every relationship, there comes pain. Pain for others as well. There is no escaping it.

Josh

My hands slowly shook with uttermost terror at what I was about to do. My heart beat in my chest and I swallowed, but the lump in my throat was unmovable as a rock. I took a few bites of breakfast to try and get rid of the fear, but it stayed with me, clinging to my clothes, like a blanket made of thistles and barbed wire. 

Debby didn't deserve this. I knew it, but inside I knew she didn't deserve me cheating on her more. She was a wonderful girl, and I knew I would miss her smiles and laughter and just her presence, as a girlfriend. But Tyler...

He was a boy. And I knew that Tyler needed me. He was so broken, in so many different ways. And we're all broken people, but he just has the courage to show it. That's why he get's bullied. In a way, I'm cowardly too. I don't show my broken parts to anyone, except Tyler. 

I think that's what a relationship truly is. Being able to show your brokenness, without fear of being laughed at, mocked, or ridiculed. And I couldn't do that with Debby. But I prayed to God that she could find someone who she could show herself beyond the girlfriend, the sweet cheerleader, the popular one. 

I'm sorry I couldn't be that guy to you, Debby. Please don't hate me, please... 

I grabbed a sport's coat on my way out. I needed all the confidence I could get. I rode my bike to school every day, as both of my parents had work in the mornings. After about half an hour of cycling, the school gates came into view like the gates of my prison. The place where I would hurt someone once again. I wish I could be aware of the hurt I was causing before I caused it. I didn't want to be that person, the bulldozer, the person intruding on other's lives and causing them pain. I wished it, but I knew what I needed to do was necessary, or Debby would hate me.

If she didn't already, of course. 

But Tyler... I kept chanting his name in my head, over and over. Like a mantra. Something to stop me from falling off the edge. Something to stop me from becoming him, drowning in his own pain. I needed to be there for him, not to become him. Just like he wanted to be with me, but he also wanted to be me. Deep inside, subconsciously, maybe, but it was there. That boy wanted to be me.

I spotted Debby, her hair past her shoulders in beautiful waves. Waiting for me. The guilt threatened to swallow me again. I walked up to her, and before she could get a word in, I said what I wanted to say.

"Debby, I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work out. We both know it. I've wanted to tell you I'm gay for a while now, but it never seemed the right moment. Every day I wish I could do this without hurting you, without hurting my family. But I figured it wouldn't be right not to tell you. I'm sorry." I struggled to look her in the eye, and when I did, I saw her eyes her filled with tears.

"Josh, I'm so scared. Of everything. I'm scared to be lonely. I'm scared of my inadequacy. But you not coming out to me hasn't helped. We were just two people living in lies for a while, and did that help? Did your deception help me, at all? I want you to be honest, but that's too much to ask. Please, have you met someone? Is that it?" The tears were out of control now, and she was taking huge great gulps of air, to try and keep her voice steady. I felt like screaming at her to stop, to stop hurting me, to stop drowning me in my own guilt. But I couldn't. Because I did this.

"I've met someone. His name is Tyler." 

"Break up with me already."

"Is there a chance we can ever be friends?" The hopeful look on my face did not escape her. I heard her sigh.

"Of course. But you do know things can never be the same, right?" She looked so broken. I did this. 

"I do. Is everything OK?" 

"NO, everything is NOT OK. I'm not mad because you're gay, for heaven's sake! But I'm mad at myself, at you, for not telling me anything since we've been together. If you cared about me at all, even as a friend, you would have told me. I'm sorry for shouting at you." 

I hugged her, and she cried into my shoulder.

"I didn't tell you... My Dad fell ill. I couldn't tell you..." I stayed silent. It made so much sense. Her distance from me... She was hurting too. All along. 

"I'm sorry..." I whispered.

I walked away, to find Tyler. I needed time to process this new information. I felt like crying. She didn't deserve this.

I saw Tyler, at his usual spot in the classroom. I walked up to him.

"Hey," I smiled. His face lit up with pure glee. 

"Hey, Josh. How's it going?" 

"Not good. I broke up with Debby." I started crying again. 

"Josh. Josh. Look at me. Don't cry. Oh crap, please don't cry. Please." He took a wad of tissues out of his back pocket and started dabbing at my face. "I hate it when you do that. Just tell me what happened."

"I told her I was gay. Then she started crying and said she wished I had told her earlier. The she told me her Dad was badly ill. Oh, Tyler, I feel so bad. I want to die. Everywhere I go, I cause people pain. I don't want to, but I do."

"You don't cause me pain," Tyler looked me in the eye, and said again. "You don't cause me pain. I want to die too, Josh! You think I don't understand, but I do! There's a razor in my room that would disagree with you. Every day, I want to die. But then I think of you, and I think to myself, just another day." I couldn't believe he had just told me that. 

"Josh, can I be your reason for just another day?" His hopeful expression threw me. I loved him, I truly did. But the words stuck in my throat.

"Meet me at the park after school. I want to see you. Alone." Then I sat at my seat, and began to tackle another day.


	5. Beat to Smithereens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love may be love, but it comes with a cost. Always remember that.

Tyler

I knew the words he was struggling to say, and I couldn't bear it. If I was going to be with him, I didn't want him being embarrassed of being gay, embarrassed of himself, embarrassed of me. I couldn't bear it. But I truly loved him. I did. 

Time seemed to enter a no-passing zone as the minute hand sluggishly crept nearer to the end of the day. It was like it was teasing me, torturing me, not letting me see Josh. My mind filled in the empty space I was feeling with awful questions.

Did Josh care about me?

Was he hurting as much as me?

Did he ever want to die?

I couldn't bear it. My mind was in the process of torturing me.

Of course he cares.

Does he though? Does anyone care about you?

I wanted to scream at myself. Tell myself to stop being so stupid. But I couldn't because every word this voice was saying was true.

Who are you?

I am you, Tyler.

I'm crazy.

You are crazy, The voice lilted. It sounded amused at me. At my resistance. As if it knew I couldn't resist any longer. You are crazy, just to think that Josh wants you.

I looked up just in time to see that the classroom was clearing out, the teenagers chatting idly among themselves, completely unaware of the pain I was going through. No one really knew my mind, and no one knew behind my eyes. I had to get used to it. This was life, and they didn't need my problems cluttering them, tripping them up, on an otherwise perfect path they'd paved themselves through their pretty lives. 

I got up slowly, not wanting to leave this chair. At least everything was certain here. I didn't have to face any of these questions in my way.

It all lead back to the razor, anyway.

I stole out the door, trying to catch Josh up before he left. He was waiting for me in front of his locker, a wide, welcoming smile on his face. I couldn't believe I'd doubted him for one second. But I knew the voice would come back after he'd left, causing me to doubt what I'd seen. 

I hated myself for it. I hated this monster inside me, this Blurryface. But it was me, and there wasn't anything I could do about it. It wouldn't give up it's territory anytime soon.

I hugged him, trying to get across everything I felt in that one touch. All my longing, my pain, my loneliness, everything. But I couldn't. I couldn't say it. Instead, what I said was-

"Do you wanna, uh, come to my house?" 

He took a second before answering.

"Sure," We walked together outside, feeling the crisp autumn air against my skin. I took a deep breath, and took in my surroundings. I took notes, made a list, in order to stop feeling so disconnected.

A young child with strawberry blonde pigtails playing on a swing.

An emo couple kissing like nobody was watching, their black locks obscuring each other's view of their faces, but them not caring.

A drug addict pushing over a little kid. The kid crying.

I stopped. Pulled myself together.

Then I snapped. I completely, utterly, snapped. 

I grabbed the addict by the shirt, and threw him across the playground. Honestly, I never believed I had that much strength hidden up inside me. But I threw him across the playground, like everything that had happened in my crappy little life depended on it. 

Then Josh was pulling me away, into my street, and held me close while my tears stop leaking. 

Then I took him by the hand, and took him inside my house. My parents were away at work, so we had the house to ourselves.

"I'm sorry," Was the first thing I said. Damn, I was sick of that word. Just saying it made me want to throw up. It was the most said word, but none of us meant it.

"Tyler. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About anything. I just want to talk to you."

So we did. About school, about life, about family. And suddenly, the temptation to kiss him overtook me. Like a barrier. 

So I did. For once, I didn't fight myself. I didn't torture myself. I just put my arms around him and kissed him, letting my loneliness seep through my fingers. I held him, and it didn't feel like I was holding a boy.

He felt like Josh. Josh, my wonderful boyfriend. My purpose, my joy, my escape. And I loved him. 

We kissed, like two drowning men seeking safety. And he kissed me in the same way. I stared into his coffee-brown eyes and let myself get lost in them. To forget myself. 

Then the door creaked open, and my parents entered.

I stopped, pushed Josh away, and stared them down.

"Out," My mum stated, her hand running through her hair. "Out, and we will talk about this thoroughly later, young man." She never called me by my name. And I hated her.

"No," I whispered. "Say what you want in front of Josh, or nowhere. I mean it," Steel entered my stare, and I felt the iron in my blood hardening, making me strong. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about anything.

That's when my Mum noticed my razor, sitting, so innocently, on my bedside table, for the very first time. She stopped, choked up, then hardened. She glared at me.

"Men, shalt not lie down with men, and women shalt not lie down with women," She spat, and my Dad nodded in agreement.

"Oh, screw you!" I screamed. Everything seemed to stop, then I carried on. "Please, stop! Dad's too far gone to care what I do, you're too caught up in your own problems to notice me. So, I don't think you have the right to tell me what to do, or to save me from damnation!" I yelled the last word at her, and watched her face contort through several emotions.

Pain, sadness, and finally, anger.

That's when she hit me.

Pain flared up my stomach, racks and racks of it multiplying in my solar plexus, and finally, reaching my heart. My Mum had never hit me before. 

Never.

Then I smiled. Lashing out was a act of weakness. I knew. I knew, because I had lashed out at that boy today because I didn't know what to do. Because I was a coward. 

I smiled, and kissed Josh right in front of my mum. His perplexed expression did not escape me, and I registered the shock on his face at what my mum had done to me. But I didn't care. Because I was gay. And that was OK. My Mum and Dad could know that.

I stood up straight, looked my parents in the eye, and said - "Love is love,"

Then I walked out the door, past their shocked expressions, hand in hand with Josh.


	6. Tear in my Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moments when you can love someone without being embarrassed of anything are the moments your Significant Other lives for. Never keep them in the dark. Treat them like the lovely people they are.

Josh

*Two Weeks Later*

I ran outside the classroom, twirling my arms like Maria from The Sound of Music. I hugged Tyler, lifting him up and twirling him around, whilst singing wildly:

"I can see a little sillouetto of a man, Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the fandango!"

I kissed Tyler on the cheek, giggling wildly. He looked at me with a look of half disgust, half amusement. Then he laughed too. 

"Dude, who knew you would get that part in the production!" He laughed at me, poking me in the face. "Since when do you act?"

"Since the time when the drama club decided they didn't have enough participants," I quickly executed a sharp jab to his stomach, and he doubled over in mock pain.

"Ouuuchhh! Josh, that hurt!" I kissed his again, giddy with excitement.

"Anyways, you got understudy! I hope you won't poison me before the big night, young man!"

"As if!" He giggled. "Anyway, where are we going? And what's got you so hyper today?" We walked towards the park, where there was a festival going on today. 

"Buckle up, Tyler..." I paused, letting the anticipation dawn on his face. "We're going to a concert!" He screeched, bouncing up and down, and grabbed the tickets from me. 

We ran towards the parks, where the tents were being set up. I grabbed Tyler's hand, and pulled him into an embrace. Then I whispered something into his ear. 

"Since our last date ended in tears, I figured I could make it up to you! Forget our cares for a night. What do you say?" 

His eyes glistened in the dark.

"I say, let's go dancing!" Then he stopped, as he read the poster advertising the main band on show tonight. His voice shook as he read it out.

"My... MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE?" He screamed. "How much did these bloody tickets cost you? Wait, never mind about that! Let's go see a fricking legendary band!"

We drew up to the main tent, where the lights were beginning to dim, flooding the stage in light. The light illuminated our faces in the dark.

I felt better this way, where no one could see our faces and everyone judged each other by their band preference. I gripped Tyler's hand, wanting to savor the moment. Then the opening band struck up, and our ears were exposed to music.

The anticipation absolutely nearly killed us.

"Dude. They need to come on." Tyler nodded in agreement.

Then My Chemical Romance came on. I only registered a few moments from the events that followed forth.

Screaming.

The first few chords of I'm Not Okay starting to play. 

Then the crowd started dancing.

 

So what choice did we have to not dance too?

Our breaths were coming in ragged strips. Our hearts were flying through our chests. Our hair was escaping, flying into our faces, obscuring our view.

Sweat dripping through our shirts. Tears. 

It was the most connected Tyler and I had ever felt together. I knew he could feel it too. I knew it. As Helena started playing, I held him, swaying softly to the music. 

"Dude. I'm way too old for old for this," I whispered softly into his hair, sensing his next thought. I could almost see the thought blossom, extending its beautiful branches until it was the only thing left in his mind. I knew, because I was thinking the same thing.

"Hell no. You're never too old for a bit of romance." Giggling at his own pun, he slowly laced his arms around my neck, and kissed me on the lips. I nervously licked mine, and kissed him back slowly. His warm, sweet breaths mingled with mine, and I was lost in the moment. He held me in his arms, supporting me, letting the last two weeks slip away into this one moment, this one moment when we were kissing. My insides burned fresh with a new kind of passion. A passion beyond my understanding of this world.

I knew I had my doubts about God, and whether this idea of Heaven or Hell really existed, but I knew, if God was really up there, and there was a place called Heaven, this is what it was feel like to be there.

God, thank you for this boy. Thank you for sending me Tyler.

God, I know men shouldn't lie down with men, but I'm trying to see sense in that. I love him, I do. You have to understand that. He's wonderful. Everything about him, the way he smiles, the way he understands this world more than I ever will, and the way he listens to me with a confused expression on his face, like he's trying to figure this world out, and the way he wishes to do something about it.

He's trying. He's trying to make it out alive. That's what makes him different. Many people tread lightly, they aren't bothered about what happens, as long as they don't take life too seriously, and enjoy themselves. That's because they understand that no one get's out alive.

But Tyler can't understand that. He refuses to. He cares too much, thinks there's a way of fixing this world.

Thank you, God. Thank you for this blessing, this angel. This wonderful boy you've sent me. Thank you for these two weeks we've had together, the simple, wonderful memories we've made.

The stolen kisses at the back row of Cinemas.

Whispered conversations in class, flicked notes, shared secrets.

Half-price sales, early sunsets, riding up and down escalators, all the while giggling wildly.

Holding hands, whilst kissing, no embarrassment, never any embarrassment.

I love him, God. Forgive me. I have to proceed.

I grabbed his face with a renewed fierceness, as if I was trying to bring him back to life. I kissed him, and let my hands wander, tracing the small of his back, pulling him to me, loving him, oh God, how I loved him. 

His breath came in bursts, our extraordinary chemistry binding us together, making us one. I wanted to merge with him. Damn, I knew I wanted to be with him... But not like this. Heaven knows I never meant for it to get this far.

"Do you... want to go... over there?" I pointed to a clearing, about 100 metres away, with a few picnic benches scattered around. 

He didn't reply. He didn't dispute it either, so I took his hand in mine and led him to a picnic bench, where I whispered the words that would damn me, or save me.

Damn me or save me, what about both?

As we sat there, just existing, with our foreheads touching, and unspoken words between us. Then I thought better of it, and didn't let these words be unspoken any longer. So I told him the truth.

The only truth that has ever existed.

"I love you, Tyler." His dark, brown eyes lit up with surprise, happiness, and ultimately, relief. Then he said the words, and my whole life slotted back into place. The cogs stopped turned, and turned back in the other direction. My life turned around, and Tyler entered it fully.

"I love you too."

The last slot of my puzzle came into place. The last slot.

Tyler's lips pressed up against mine. The last slot.

Then I realized. I never needed to be Tyler's purpose. All I needed to do was to be there. Not to be the last slot. Just to be a slot, holding the puzzle together, to be there for him.

I loved him.

And for Tyler, that was enough.


End file.
